If Birds Could Talk
by Bineshii
Summary: Lancelot and Brian meet a young lady with a pet parrot. This bird has a story to tell which leads to another exciting mission.
1. Chapter 1

**If Birds Could Talk**

**A Further Adventure in the Adventures of Sir Lancelot**

**Chapter One**

By Bineshii

**Note:** I introduced Aveline as an original character in an earlier stories as Lancelot's younger sister. This story is the latest, chronologically in my series, accept for the two cross-over stories with Star Trek and Dr Who which at the time of this story, have not yet happened. This is a multi-part story consisting of four chapters.

...

"Brian, is there any more stew left?"

"A little, My Lord," Brian said, lifting the pot off the fire and scrapping the bottom with a wooden spoon. He set the pot down and reached for Lancelot's bowl.

Handing it over, Lancelot asked "are you still hungry too?"

Brian smiled, "Sorry, I could only catch one fish. We only had a short time until night fall when we got to this camping spot."

"Not to worry, Brian." Lancelot's voice rose and fell gently over the words. "But you didn't answer me."

Brian's face brightened. "Oh! I have some honey cakes! I forgot about them. Aveline slipped them into my saddle bag just as we were leaving Camelot this morning."

"Well, just don't sit there, boy, go get them," laughed Lancelot.

As Brian was rooting in his saddle bag on the other side of the fire, Lancelot, in an impish mood said "I used to be the one that Aveline gave presents too."

Brian turned to Lancelot, his eyes wide, saying "You still are her favorite brother, though. And look, enough here for both of us. I'm sure she meant them for both of us."

"Or for you for a couple of days," Lancelot said, putting in a petulant note. "And I am her ONLY brother. She has to like me."

"Oh nooo, My Lord. Surely these are for both of us." Studying Lancelot's face, Brian picked up the fact that Lancelot was teasing him so he said impishly "She does like you. MOST of the time."

Lancelot took the cake that Brian handed him. He ran it around the edge of the bowl Brian handed back to him to sop up all the remaining stew. And looking at Brain out of the corner of his eye, continued his teasing with "Most of the time? I see. I suppose that is all a poor brother can expect, because one day she will run off with someone she likes better than her brother. That girl will one day make someone a fine wife. She is a good cook."

"So am I a good cook!" protested Brian, blushing because he knew that Lancelot knew how much he was becoming attached to Aveline. Lancelot even seemed to be pushing the relationship, but Brian was trying to divert the conversation from Aveline right now.

"I know you are a good cook, Brian. It's the only reason I made you my squire. So I could have tasty meals when we were out on missions for the king."

Brian looked at Lancelot sharply and blinked.

"Brian, don't you know by now when I am teasing you? Look, you caught the fish and made the dinner. I will go down to the stream and clean our dishes."

"Good," said Brian, a bit put out about the teasing and he ducked his head so that Lancelot did not muss his hair too badly as the knight rose and walked past him balancing the dishes in one hand, and disappeared down the slope to the stream.

Brian spread out his bed roll, sat on it, and was just using a tooth pick before rinsing his teeth with a cup of water when he was startled by a voice from above.

"Brian."

"Sir Lancelot? Are you up in that tree?" asked Brian after hitting himself in the chin with his cup and spilling water down his neck.

"Brian. Brianbrianbrian."

Brian realized that was not Lancelot's voice but someone trying to imitate him. He jumped up and looked around for his sword. Finding it, he snatched it up before answering back "Who are you and what do you want?"

"Good cook. Honeycakehoneycake. Brian." Said the voice above him.

"Don't you call me honey cake, whoever you are! Come down out of that tree!"

"Is there any more stew left? Honey cake."

"That is quite enough! I said not to call me honey cake!" shouted Brian stamping around under the tree where he was sure the voice was coming from.

"Brian! What in the world?"

Brian turned to see Sir Lancelot back from the stream, holding the dishes in his hands, a perplexed expression on his face. "Who are you talking to and why are you telling them not to call you honey cake?"

Brian pointed with the sword. "Up there! He's up in that tree, My Lord. He must have been hiding up there and listening to us earlier."

Lancelot grabbed the cool end of a stick that was burning in the fire and raising it, walked over to the tree. He waved it slowly, trying to see up into the tree. "Hello? Who are you? Show yourself!"

"She does like you. Most of the time."

'What? You are not making any sense! Come on down here!" Lancelot was becoming exasperated.

"What? Show yourself, honeycakehoneycake."

"I'll show you some honey cake!" said Brian, running to his saddle bag and fishing out another honey cake. He returned to the tree and held it out in his hand. "See? This is honey cake, not me."

There was a rustle of wings and a gray form floated down from the tree. A bird with feet extended dropped down onto Brian's outstretched arm and began to peck at the honey cake in Brian's hand. Then lifting one foot, the bird picked up a piece of the honey cake in that foot and started eating it.

"That's a parrot, Brian. I saw one once in the home of one of the Romans who still remain in Britain even with the legions long gone. It is a bird from Africa."

"It's heavy on my arm," said Brian whispering as he bent his elbow and brought the bird closer to his face.

"Sqwaaak!"

Brian stretched his arm away from his face and the bird started eating again.

"Gently, Brian. This is a rare bird. This kind of bird can talk. It may be lost and its owner might be looking for it."

"We have no cage. How will we keep it?"

"It doesn't need a cage," said a high voice from a few feet away.

A girl of about ten years stepped softly over to Brian. "Greylady, I see you have found a friend." Then to Brian she said, "I will take her on my arm when she finishes her meal."

When the bird had eaten its fill and sipped some water from Brian's cup, the three humans sat down close to the fire with the bird on Lady Violet's shoulder. The girl explained that indeed the bird had flown off by itself on an adventure. Since night came upon it before it returned to its home, it must have picked a tree to roost in for the night. Violet was glad it had not become prey of a larger bird as it really was only a medium size bird, after all.

After talking for awhile by the fire, Lancelot lifted Violet up on Caledon with Greylady still perched on her shoulder. Violet had been treated to the last of the seedcake, since she had grown hungry searching for her bird for hours. She had also explained that the castle she lived in was only a half mile away, but hidden by a woodland from Lancelot and Brian's campsite.

"Lady Violet, your people must be very worried about you being along outside your castle after dark. I must get you back to them immediately. And Brian, bank the fire for the night. I will be back shortly after returning our guests to their home."

Brian nodded. "Of course, My Lord. Nice to have met you, Lady Violet."

The girl smiled back at Brian as Lancelot led Caledon off on foot. Lancelot was afraid the bird would not tolerate him so close if he was to ride on Caledon too. The bird had pin-pointed its eyes when Lancelot had tried to give it a bit of honey cake with his fingers.

When Lancelot returned later, riding Caledon, Brian was wrapped in his bed role already asleep.

The next morning, they had a quick breakfast of oatmeal heated in water over the still glowing coals of their fire. They put out the fire and continued on their short mission before returning to Camelot. On their way back, they had stopped in to visit Violet and Greylady. Violet's parents let her accompany Lancelot to Camelot, hoping their daughter would be acceptable as one of the Queen's young attendants.

...

Lancelot spent most mornings at Camelot on the practice fields to keep his skills sharp. Today, Lancelot thought Brian looked contemplative, perhaps slightly despondent, as he prepared practice weapons and handed them to the knights. After mopping the sweat off his face, Lancelot hung up his last practice weapon on a hook in the wall and strode over to the boy.

"Something a bit off today in my style?" Lancelot asked, a bemused smile directed at Brian.

"Oh no, My Lord, not at all. And I was watching very closely. No one can touch you in style, not even Sir Gawain though he tries ever so hard. He likes sparring with you, I think, because it does improve his own style. I wish you could see yourself from the stands at a tournament against the most worthy of your opponents. All the table knights make jousting and swordplay look so easy, almost like skilled dancers. But when you go up against even the Table knights, you make them look inept and clumsy. I never, ever, will be that good!"

Lancelot clapped his arm around Brian's shoulders and squeezed the boy against him. Brian winced a bit. Lancelot was a very physical man and unaware that often he used too much strength when trying to just be companionable.

"Hey, Brian, you don't know that about yourself Not at this stage of your training. Taking such a self deprecating attitude will only make it a self-fulfilling prophesy."

Lancelot patted Brian's shoulder but restrained himself from mussing Brian's hair. He knew the lad was getting irritated with that. The boy was noticing girls now and took pains to groom his hair.

"Brian, just take it in small steps. Make each practice one where you do your best. Try to just do a little better than you did the day before. Compete only with yourself, going for small improvements. And when you get knocked on your butt by another squire, analyze what moves he used. Learn them. There are always new moves to learn, even for me. Throughout your lifetime, take a learning attitude. Even when you are old and thinking of retiring from tournaments in favor of your sons. That is my plan and the plan of any knight who excels on the practice field and in actual combat."

And again Brian winced as Lancelot hugged him before pushing him toward the practice field.

Brian turned and gave Lancelot an uncertain grin. "Whatever works for you certainly would be good advice for me."

Lancelot watched the boy square his shoulders and walk off with more purpose toward the other squires who were now beginning their practice.

"Lancelot," a sweet soft voice hailed him from just behind his left shoulder. He turned to smile down at the queen whose breath he could feel through his chainmail. She was breathing a bit hard and her face was flushed when he turned to look down at her. She must have been practically running because she took a couple of more breaths before she spoke again. "It's that bird. That African Grey parrot young Lady Violet brought with her when you brought her to Camelot on your return from your last mission."

"Is it sick?" Asked Lancelot frowning with concern.

"Oh no," explained the Queen. "Piecing together some of its awkward phrases, it seems to be telling us a strange tale of woe which may mean another mission I wish to send you on. I want you to listen to the bird this afternoon. It does its most talking when people are in the room ignoring it because they are engaged in other activities. It is talking to get attention and the more it talks, the words start to make sense. We could play a game of chess near its perch, ignoring it for most of the time to get it to talk."

"Lead on, My Lady, there is nothing I would enjoy more than seeing a beautiful face across a table over a chess board." His wide smile and the tender look in his eyes as he gazed down at her made a thrill run down her spine and her blush deepened.

"You are incorrigible in you flattery, Sir. But come."

Pivoting away from him and lifting the hem of her skirt so she could move with ease, Guinevere walked away quickly knowing he would follow.


	2. Chapter 2

**If Birds Could Talk**

**A Further Adventure in the Adventures of Sir Lancelot**

**Chapter Two**

By Bineshii

Greylady perched on Brian's large and gentle hand. He had been working with the bird and it showed, as Violet looked on, smiling.

"You have calmed her down after she was shouting for attention from the queen and Sir Lancelot as they ignored her while hunched over that chess board. I know they were trying to get information from her by pretending to ignore her," observed Violet.

"We did," said Sir Lancelot entering his quarters after a short time on the practice fields to see the bird calmly taking pieces of bread soaked in honey from Brian. "Brian, you can be so gentle when you want to be. I saw how delicately you held Merlin's pigeons. A knight should have his gentle side as well as a stern side when necessary."

A blush climbed Brian's fair cheeks. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone to think of him as gentle when he was trying hard to prove himself among his fellow squires.

"Both of you, stay here," said Lancelot as he exchanged his chainmail vest and sweat soaked tabard for a clean shirt and tabard. "I have been called by the king to discuss how to respond to Greylady's revelations."

Violet averted her eyes even though it was only a shirt he was changing and then looked at Lancelot with pleading in her eyes. "Oh please, if this means you will look for my aunt and uncle, I would be so happy."

Lancelot chucked her under the chin, winked at Brian and went off to meet with the king.

...

The king was pacing slowing in front of the hearth in the room in which he normally transacted private business. In our time, we would call it an office but he thought of it as his sitting room. Guinevere often came and went silently, occupying a chair near the fire with needle work. She had a sense for when Arthur needed complete privacy - either alone to work on a problem or when in consultation with someone who needed to confide something to her husband. Their sensitivity to, and respect for, each other made for a companionable marriage with few serious quarrels or misunderstandings.

Today, she was sitting quietly when Lancelot answered the king's summons because she had an interest in the mission Lancelot was about to be assigned. Lancelot entered in his usual fashion, confidently and ready to be very attentive. He nodded to her, smiling, as he walked past her to join Arthur near the fire.

"You summoned me, My Lord?"

"Yes, Lancelot. Have a seat."

They both sat in chairs arranged near the fire, but not close enough to be uncomfortably with the roaring heat.

"Now, you were present to hear the strange ramblings of this bird. While I am skeptical of such an odd way of hearing about a problem, I cannot completely discount it. This is my understanding of the situation: Sir Felix's family descends from a Roman centurion, for whom he is named, a man who upon completing 25 years with a Roman legion in Britain, was given an estate, a villa, with slaves and land enough to live off of comfortably. That was in 390, twenty years before the legions left Britain. And in this year of 511, a hundred years after they left, we still have vestiges of Rome in our country. In this case we will now discuss, I fear this legacy figures largely."

The king paused to rise and pace over to the fire and warm his hands. He walked past Guinevere, squeezed her shoulder lightly, and she smiled up at him.

The king began to speak again. "Guinevere stayed many times at the villa on her way to and from shopping trips in Lundinium and she is quite as concerned about the fate of Sir Felix and his wife as am I. Sir Felix has preserved the family lifestyle in Roman fashion even though he took up our modern ways of fighting on horseback and with our longer swords. He won many tournaments in his youth and was knighted by Sir Kay's grandfather. And he took great pride in following in his Roman ancestor's martial footsteps even if it was in a different fashion. But since he grew old and put away his arms in favor of the life as a gentleman farmer, he still has old enemies from his active fighting days. I am concerned because he refused to build a castle or even a walled compound on his land. While other villa's have been abandoned in favor of more secure living arrangements, his family has remained with minimum protection and it has made him foolishly vulnerable."

Guinevere rested her sewing on her lap and looked straight at Lancelot. "The villa is lovely, but Sir Felix's companions at arms have long ago all gone home to their own estates, or, sadly, over time, have passed away. He showed me some coins saved from his great-grandfather Felix's last Roman army pay that had been saved and passed down from father to son. They were among his most treasured possessions – a few gold coins and some bronze. Here," and the queen picked a bronze coin from her sewing box. "I have one he gave me."

Lancelot took the coin and examined it closely, turning over both sides in his hand angled so the light of the fire fell on it.

"It had a cuirassed figure – a bust of a man in body armor on one side, and the Emperor Canstans holding a 'victory on globe' on the other side," explained the queen. "The bronze coins were of lesser value than the gold, of course, which is why he so easily parted with it as a small gift."

Lancelot returned the coin to the queen as she continued "With such treasures in his home, even I could see that he was getting lax in self protection, lulled by the beauty and peace of his gardens and fields tended expertly by his field hands. But those field hands would be no match for fighting men. And it was winter when he and his wife disappeared. During winter, the field hands disperse to their native villages and Annia Amelia retained only a cook and two young people to clean and serve in the villa. Even though Sir Felix's brother had repeatedly asked him to winter in Londinium with him, Sir Felix would not leave his beloved estate."

"Just so!" agreed the king. "So half a year ago, in the dead of winter, the inevitable happened. He and his wife disappeared from their villa at a time that minimal servants were present. A cook and a maid and a man servant were found murdered in the villa but no sign of Sir Felix or Lady Annia Amelia could be found. Their money chest was found empty and some jewelry was missing. The relatives of Sir Felix have been waiting for a ransom offer which has not come. And now Lady Violet's bird, who was found alive in the villa after the murders, and given into Violet's care when the livestock was removed from the empty estate, is imitating Sir Felix's wife, Annia Amelia's voice pleading for mercy. It seems Lady Annia Amelia was asking someone to spare her husband's life."

"My Lord, I have personally heard this bird do this. It is a haunting experience," said Sir Lancelot.

"Lancelot and I heard this together, along with several of my ladies. More than enough time has passed if there were to be a ransom demand. We now fear the worst," Guinevere said in a quiet and sad voice.

The king nodded. "I fear that this is enough evidence, combined with the lack of a ransom request, to have you investigate the possible murder of Sir Felix and Lady Annia Amelia. I would like you to examine the villa, talk to Violet's father, Sir Claudius, and talk to the other brother, Master Justus, who resides in Lundinium. Justus is a wealthy merchant who has done business with many of us here in Camelot."

"Then I will leave immediately, My Lord," Lancelot said as he stood up from the comfortable chair. As he was turning toward the doorway, the king raised a hand.

"I will send a messenger to Master Justus in Londinium saying that you will be coming after you visit the villa."

"Thank you, My Lord. Brian and I will leave today. We can get to Sir Claudius's castle by tonight to interview him about the case and get permission to visit the villa. If there is not much to see at the villa, we should be in Londinium in four days time."

The queen smiled up at Lancelot "He likes to be called Sir Claude, according to Violet. He does not hold with the Roman traditions like his brothers do. I am sure this mission will please Violet who has been concerned about the fate of her aunt and uncle. She is also very fond of that bird."

"Please do tell her that we will do our best to solve this case," said Lancelot, reaching for her hand to give it a light kiss before he left the room.

...

Sir Claude was a gracious host and asked many questions about how his daughter was getting along in Camelot. He missed her greatly. Being a widower, he missed female attention so much that he wanted Lancelot to inform his brother in Londinium that he would appreciate him asking around about available widows his age who were also lonely.

"This is not the first time I have asked to be a go-between," laughed Lancelot. "As long as I do not have to act as a stand-in and read a poem or recite a message to a specific lady."

"Oh, no, I am only just starting to look for a new wife. And I would rather do it out of sight of my daughter who would certainly speak her mind on the subject," Sir Claude said sheepishly.

"Lady Violet, though yet a child, is not shy with her opinions," said Lancelot. "But she has been helpful with coxing her bird into some disturbing evidence. I hope we can help solve this mystery."

Sir Claude sat heavily at a table in his hall, indicating that Lancelot and Brian also sit. He poured them each a tankard of ale before steepling his hands and sighing.

"I have been sending some of my own livestock and extra corn to Londinium for my brother to sell in expectation of a ransom demand. Both he and I have been converting goods to coin for this purpose. I also have been feeding chickens, cattle, and horses here at our castle that belong to the villa in the hope of returning them to my missing brother. The longer we hear nothing, the worse the outcome is likely to be. I did not engage a supervisor for the farmland this summer as I was expecting my brother back. So the local people were allowed to just maintain personal gardens instead of participating in an organized planting that should be used to pay taxes to the king. The villa itself has stood empty for six months, but will need a tenet to supervise the farming of the land before next summer. Being empty and neglected, you will have easy access to it. I doubt that any new evidence will be found there, but you will be able to see the layout which may help in figuring out what happened."

"We can only try," said Lancelot. "It is a shame your brother did not provide for better protection in our uncertain times. Everyone is safer now that the king has established the Round Table and a decent legal system. But the people who still maintain open villas as if the Roman legions were still keeping order, are at high risk of sacking or worse."

"I agree. I hope that others will take precautions from the lesson of our family."

Lancelot and Brian spent a comfortable evening with Sir Claude and early the next day, left for the villa.

...

By pushing their horses they arrived late in the afternoon.

The abandoned villa was in some disrepair. Where livestock buildings had straw roofs, these had fallen in. The pergola in the garden was overgrown with grape and rose vines but less hardy domestic plants had succumbed to weeds. Lancelot and Brian left their horses in the courtyard where last year's leaves crackled under their feet. As they entered the foyer, leaves had blown in partially covering a mosaic which Brian kneeled to clean off.

"That is a portrait of Sir Felix, I think," said Sir Lancelot.

"I like the intertwining of lines around the portrait," said Brian. It reminds me of the rug in your mother's great hall at Benwick castle."

"Indeed it does, Brian. And that broken red crockery in the corner over there, my mother has a whole set of dishes like that, imported from Rome long ago."

"Sir Lancelot, are you sad that the legions left? Everyone has been saying that life was not as good after they left."

"Overseas trade fell off, Brian. And there was much fighting to fill in the gap left by Roman authority. But that has been mostly sorted out and our king has been establishing a benevolent system of order. We are creating a new order, with our own local stamp. I believe it will one day be better even than in Roman times, though there is still much to do to bring it about."

"And we are helping with that, are we not, Sir Lancelot?"

Lancelot put his arm around the boy. "Yes we are! Now let's go inside and see what we can determine about this abduction."

The atrium had an opening to the sky over what had been a pool. Presently, the pool was filled with dirt and a bed of dry leaves that had drifted in through the door and down from the opening in the roof.

"That is strange, Brian. The Queen said it was a beautiful pool with an abstract mosaic on the bottom and blue paint on the sides when she visited two years ago."

"I wonder if Sir Felix decided to convert the pool to a small garden?" Mused Brian. "How could such a nice house be totally abandoned?" asked Brian. "You would think squatters would be camped out here."

"They do camp here, Brian. But Sir Claude sends men here periodically to clear them off until his brother returns or is proven to be dead. He is storing the most valuable furnishings at his castle as well as feeding all the livestock there. I do hope this place does not become another abandoned villa to be stripped of every stone and timber and roofing tile for other farms and villages."

Brian sighed. To his peasant's sensibilities, nothing should go to waste. There were too many people in dire need of shelter. He thought it a shame that such a house stood empty, and if it never was to be lived in again, certainly the materials should be reused.

They wandered through several rooms off the courtyard, noting that wall paintings were starting to peal and fade and a few broken marble house god images lay strewn about. Brian picked up a piece of broken window glass. It would almost be worth keeping if it was not so sharp, he thought. He let it fall and it shattered into even smaller pieces.

"Brian, come look at this."

Brian walked over to stand beside Lancelot and squint in the dim light that barely penetrated into a corner of the room. He tried to read the lettering scratched on the wall. "It's in Latin," he observed.

"Read it, boy."

"Oh. Something about being a captive. Why?"

"I think it is a written cry for help. I think someone was held in this room. Probably the owner of the villa. See that part there? Where he says someone is pilfering his treasures?"

"I can't read that well yet."

Lancelot clapped Brian on the shoulder. Now you see the use of reading. You never know when it will be useful."

"Yes, My Lord," sighed Brian, prepared for another lecture from his mentor. But Lancelot headed for the entry to the room to look at the stout oak door and the locking mechanism. It certainly would be capable of keeping someone locked in that room.

After searching each room they stood in the atrium, each with his own thoughts until Brian said "well at least there are not any pots for me to trip over and break like the last time we were in a Roman house."

"Ever the optimist, my boy, or is it the humorist? I never know what you will come up with next!" Laughed Lancelot. "Humor is needed in this sad place. It would be beautiful if not so stripped and neglected."

"Right, My Lord. Do you think it is haunted?"

"Only by the living, Brian. Only by those in need who take temporary shelter until they are driven off."

Brian was not so sure. He walked around the pool, studying it and the atrium as a whole. Along the walls were benches interspersed with pots of dead plants. He broke off a stick from a dead potted tree and squatted by the pool, stirring the leaves that had blown into it.

"I wonder how deep..." began Brian.

"Pools like this are usually shallow," said Lancelot coming up behind him. "The moisture would have helped the plants and it would be easy to scoop up a jar of water to distribute among them. This was an assembly room, a place to be seen and admired by guests."

Brian stabbed the stick in a couple of places, trying to find the bottom. As he pulled the stick out, the end of a bone popped up.

Lancelot sank to his knees, his greaves going clank on the stone floor. "Brian! Pull that out, please."

Brian did, handing it to Lancelot who turned it and turned it in his hands.

"Brian, this is a human lower arm bone."

"Gods," said Brian leaning away from it. "Really, Sir Lancelot?"

Lancelot stepped into the pool and started to brush away leaves. "Find me something I can dig with, Brian!"

Brian found an old gardener's trowel beside one of the pots. He handed it to Lancelot and started shifting the decomposing matter out of the pool with his hands as Lancelot dug away at the detritus in the pool. After a half hour, they had cleaned off most of two human skeletons. The clothing indicated a man and a woman of some wealth.

"Brian, I believe these are the remains of Sir Felix and Lady Annia Amelia. They never left their villa. They must have been held captive in that room then murdered and dumped in the pool. It would have been easier to do that and fill the pool with dirt than to dig a hole outside. Since they were short handed on the estate because it was winter, no wonder only three bodies were found, and that in the kitchen area. But it is a wonder that no one looked here for the estate owners. Of course the murderers wanted to delay the finding of these bodies, but they probably thought they would be found a lot sooner than this. They got lucky. Or not, because finding the bodies means the estate inheritance can be settled and the prime suspects would be those who would inherit the estate."

Lancelot stood, arching his back which was now sore from digging. He looked around, frowning, replaying the scenario of robbery and murder in his mind. Then, spotting a piece of ripped awning that once had sheltered chairs placed outside in the courtyard, he pointed to it. Catching Lancelot's intention, Brian picked the awning up, shook it and brought it over to the pool so the two of them could cover the remains of Sir Felix and Lady Annia Amelia.

"Come. We are closer to Londinium than to Camelot. We will continue on and report what we have found to Master Justus who can send a messenger to Violet's father and to the king.

"Then what, Sir Lancelot?" asked Brian.

"Then we look very closely at the family. It still may have been a raid by marauders, but I have my doubts."


	3. Chapter 3

**If Birds Could Talk**

**A Further Adventure in the Adventures of Sir Lancelot**

**Chapter Three**

By Waaboozikwe

They traveled along a Roman road that lead to Londinium. Parts of the road were in excellent repair, but there were areas where bricks had been prized up, removed to use as building materials. Often, Lancelot and Brian had their horses moving along the dirt path worn alongside the road.

"The road is great for carts pulled by horses or oxen going at a slow pace," said Sir Lancelot. "At the ground-covering canter that we are using, the road is rough on our horses' knees and feet."

Brian, holding the lead line of their pack horse and guiding his own mount with one hand, nodded in agreement. The dirt path wasn't as jarring as the road. He and Lancelot rode side by side when they were walking the horses to give them a rest. But when moving faster, Lancelot rode ahead, unencumbered by the pack horse he had his hands free to draw his sword if necessary. Both of them were vigilant, especially where the forest came close to the road. Marauders tended to accost travelers and even would attack an armed knight if their numbers were large. Merchants hired guards as they trundled in heavily laden wagons along the roads because they were often preyed upon by robbers on foot. People on horseback could often out run those on foot, but some robbers did have horses.

Lancelot and Brian were fortunate to find a village to stay in one night, and an inn the next. Lancelot carried a purse of mixed coinage – some Roman coins, gold, silver, bronze and copper, besides some later minted coins from Gaul, Spain, and even Britain. The later coins were often not as round or crisply incised with portraits of important people as the Roman coins. But value was determined by coin weight, not the beauty of the coin, and coins of any mintage were all valued by robbers.

As they topped a rise, they had a panoramic view of Londinium and the river with more boat traffic than Brian had ever seen.

"Those boats, Sir Lancelot, they bring all the beautiful pottery and cloth from all over the world, do they not?"

"They do, Brian. And olive oil from Spain, wine and marble statues and bowls and marble blocks for building from Rome. My father said that my grandparents remember when fifty or more ships could be seen on the river."

Brian counted the ships he could see. "I see fifteen ships moving down there. Across the river, I see, maybe, ten more ships docked. And people and carts on that bridge over the river!"

Lancelot noted the boy's amazed gaze. "There will be more boats moored at wharfs that we can't see on this side of the river, blocked by the buildings." Lancelot hoped to have some time for the two of them to explore the city once their mission was concluded.

As they entered the outskirts of the city, Brian noticed that some buildings had neat, even brick work. The bricks were of equal size and all in straight rows. Other buildings had oddly shaped bricks and rock pieces haphazardly thrown in the walls with the mortar lumpy. These buildings were falling down easier then the buildings with evenly sized and spaced bricks. They passed through parts of the city that were abandoned, accept for squatters with tents or just pieces of tattered cloth tied between sections of crumbling walls.

"How old is this city, Sir Lancelot?"

"Brian, there was a settlement here since before the Romans first came. It is deep enough for ships from the sea but narrow enough to have a bridge across."

"Since before the Romans? Wouldn't that be hundreds of years?"

"Yes. Almost five hundred years since the Romans came. We could ask at one of the homes of the ancient Roman families that still live here. Some of them have extensive libraries of scrolls and could give us a good talk on the history of the city."

"Oh, let's do that. Shall we?"

Lancelot twisted in his saddle to look down at the boy on his smaller horse, as he tweaked the lead rope of the pack horse which was picking its way carefully over the paving stones. There was a look of eager anticipation on Brian's face.

"I had no idea you were such an aspiring historian, Brian. I shall have to ask King Arthur to allow you access to the book shelves in Camelot that he is so fond of."

Brian's expression changed. "I want to see the real thing, My Lord. Not some musty old drawings in books and scrolls."

Lancelot grinned. "When your reading improves, maybe you would like musty old books and scrolls more. And next time we visit my mother at Benwick, I am sure she would love to have you help her put her library in order."

"Um, forget I mentioned it, Sir Lancelot. I will just ask any local carpenters or masons we come across in the city here, about the Roman buildings."

Lancelot chortled, and then turned his eyes to the footing of the horses. Though intrigued by the different paving materials used as they passed through changing sections of the city, they were on a mission and had to delay any sightseeing. As they approached the city center, the streets were wider and straighter. Some buildings were three, and even four floors high. There were pots with plants up there on some flat roofs and laundry strung out on lines across the roofs, between windows, and even between buildings. Glass glinted in some of the windows.

As their way started angling downhill, Lancelot noticed views of the river as they passed openings between buildings. There were more vendors with racks of goods lining these streets near the harbor. They passed a Roman basilica, which appeared to house rows of vendor stalls out of the sun and rain. Then they passed a bathhouse that was being maintained in excellent condition. This was a landmark that Lancelot had been watching for from the queen's directions and he motioned to Brian that they should make a right turn.

"We are to pass two more crossing streets, then go up hill on the next street past five buildings, Brian. The sixth should be Master Justus's shop and residence. He will have been told to expect us sometime this week."

"He will be feeding us? And the horses?"

"Why, yes. There is a yard and stable attached on the far side of his house, where the neighboring residence fell into ruin a few years ago, according to the queen. The bricks were taken away for use elsewhere and wood brought in to build the stable and storage sheds. I expect we will be treated to a bath in that excellent establishment we just passed. Remember those lovely days when we visited the town of Bath?"

Brian smiled. "Oh yes. That was so relaxing. Heated water! A luxury we don't often get even at Camelot!"

Lancelot smiled. He enjoyed treating Brian to the better things in life, things the boy certainly had not indulged in before Lancelot took custody of him. He enjoyed spoiling the boy with a weekly cold tub bath and a hot one every few months. The boy now even owned a book, some writing paper, a linen court tabard, a pair of leather shoes and a pair of sandals. Ah, it was good to be alive in the 6th century.

They dismounted beside a three story building with stacks of pottery on a table on the street but shoved up against the front wall. Lancelot went inside, noting more carefully displayed, and better made pottery watched over by a clerk who said "may I help you?"

"Is this the shop and residence of Master Justus?"

"It is," replied the man.

"He is expecting me and my squire. I am Sir Lancelot of King Arthur's court and have come to report news of Master Justus's brother."

"Oh, yes Sir!" The man made a brief bow which turned into a run through the shop toward a doorway at the back. He turned quickly to ask "will you watch the shop for a moment? I will get Master Justus directly."

"Of course. Thank you," Lancelot answered, glancing around at the pottery after the man disappeared. There were plates and bowls and mugs for tableware on tables and shelves against the four walls. On the floor were cooking pots and storage vessels, even amphorae.

"Ah, you have come!" A man in Roman merchant's robes stood in the doorway to the back of the house. "I am Master Justus and you must be Sir Lancelot."

"I am indeed. It was kind of you to put us up. My squire is waiting outside with our horses. May we take them to your stable now?"

"Of course, of course," Justus raised both hands, gesturing toward the front entry. He walked with shuffling steps to the doorway to the street. Justus had a nearly bald head with a fringe of white hair around it. He gripped the door frame as he leaned forward to look into the street.

Lancelot, seeing that Justus was not too steady on his feet, said "Master Justus, please just tell us where we should take the horses, we are used to handling them ourselves and should not let our host be burdened with this duty."

"No! You have had a long ride from the villa. Lucius! Tobey! Come and see to our guests' animals."

The clerk returned and a boy appeared outside from the stable attached to the residence. Brian reluctantly gave the two of them the reins of Caledon and his own mount, and the lead line of the pack horse.

"Let me just remove our clothing bundles from the pack horse," Brian said.

"No, no, let Lucius bring those in," said Justus. "He knows where to take them. Your horses will be unsaddled, rubbed down and fed. I have put you in the guest chamber. My, my, I hope you will be comfortable there. When the queen visits, Livia and I give her our room, you know, and we take the guest chamber. So I know for a fact that Livia has made the guest chamber comfortable."

"Thank you," said Lancelot, gesturing for Brain to join him inside with their host. "Now, I have some sad news to report. May we sit down somewhere?"

Justus sighed heavily. "Come this way. It has been so long since the abduction that I have been preparing myself and my wife for bad news. Follow me; we will join her in our sitting room off the courtyard behind our little shop."

In a pleasant chamber an elderly woman was seated on a bench. Justus went to her and bent to kiss her hand, then indicated chairs for Lancelot and Brian to sit in. Lancelot bowed, saying "Good afternoon, My Lady," prompting Brian to do likewise. After Justus sat next to his wife, Lancelot and Brian sat down across from them.

"My wife, Livia, and I, will now hear your news." Justus gripped Livia's hand tightly, steadying both of them for the sad news.

Lancelot sighed. "There is no easy way to put this. We found Sir Felix and Lady Annia Amelia at the villa. I mean, we found their bodies."

Tears welled up in Justus's eyes and Livia's eyes dropped to stare at the floor, her lower lip trembling.

"Oh. It is over then. Our effort to collect a ransom for them was futile from the start," said Justus. "The end of all hope has come."

Livia looked up at Lancelot. "I knew it. I knew Annia would never leave her villa. She would fight to stay there even if it meant her life. She was my younger sister, you know. She put years of labor into that villa, the gardens, the orchard - especially since they had no children for her to lavish her love on. She had so much to give. She was a gentle person. Why..."

Livia's hands covered her face for a moment, and then she raised her head, face assuming an impassive mask. "Forgive me. After all this time, we should have been prepared for this."

"I am so sorry," Lancelot said softly. "We found them in the pool, covered by soil. Whatever they suffered is now long over."

Justus rose and pulled Livia to her feet. "It is over, yes. The worst must have happened before we even heard about the servants' bodies being found. This knowledge will bring us peace, in a way. We can move on from here. I will make plans for a proper burial and disposition of the estate. But we have guests to attend to. Is the evening meal ready, my dear?"

Livia nodded and gestured toward the chamber door. Lancelot and Brian somberly followed their hosts to the dining room.

...

After a satisfying evening meal, Lancelot and Brain were invited into Master Justus's library. Justus laid out a scroll on a table and held it down with weights.

"Now, this is the plan of Felix's villa. You said my brother's remains and that of his wife where found here?"

Lancelot bent over the table, hands on the edge of it and said "Yes, the pool in the atrium."

Meanwhile, Brian studied the items on a set of shelves along one wall of the room. Scrolls and a few books, and some military artifacts lay there haphazardly. He picked up a helmet of Roman design with a red brush, running his hand over the bristles. "Sir Lancelot, your helmet plume is red like this Roman's, but I like yours better. It is fluffier and stirs nicely in a breeze."

Lancelot glanced up "Yes, some of our armaments are based on the Roman. But we have evolved our own style better suited to the needs of our time. You like my helm better because you are used to the style." Lancelot laughed. "I am not sure whether I like your description of 'fluffier'. It sounds like a description for women's clothing."

"Oh, no, My Lord. That is not what I meant at all. Your helm is very manly," said Brian, moving on to study a gladius, the Roman sword, which was quite a bit shorter than Lancelot's. "Why is this Roman sword so short?"

"Different style of fighting," interjected Justus. "And it was not all that a Roman soldier carried," he said, pointing to a shield. "That is a scutus, and that below it is a pugio – a dagger. Next to the pugio you will see a few plumbatae – darts. A soldier would carry several of those. Leaning against the wall is pila – a javelin and a soldier carried two of those."

"An ordinary foot soldier carried all of these weapons?" asked Brian. "He would need a squire to help him."

"No," smiled Festus. "If Lancelot will let me have you for a couple of hours tomorrow, I will show you how one man can carry all that and how these weapons would be used by a Roman soldier. Mind, a Roman soldier was part of an army and drilled to fight side by side with other soldiers, not like a modern knight on horseback."

Brian looked at Lancelot who smiled, nodding "I do know something of these weapons but I too would like to learn more."

"I'd be delighted to show both of you." Then Justus cleared his throat to direct Lancelot's attention back to the map of the villa. They continued to compare their knowledge of the villa, speculating about the imprisonment and murders.

Justus sat down and laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on the arm rests of his chair. "During dinner you may have noticed that I asked Lucius to pack a few of my things for a trip. I plan to take a few men and go to the villa tomorrow and bury my brother. You are welcome to stay in my home here in Londinium as long as it takes to discover anything which might help solve this heinous murder. Please don't hesitate to ask Lucius for anything you need."

"Thank you," Lancelot said. "I am sure Brian and I will be quite comfortable here. And we certainly will do our best to resolve this mystery."

Justus nodded. He leaned forward, moving a finger over the builder's layout map of the villa, while muttering. Then he said out loud "the servant's bodies were found here. And here. Here is the room where my brother was held captive. I noted as you did, the message scratched on the wall. My son, Martinus, was the first to visit the villa after the murders. It happened in this way. After one of the summer workers living in a nearby village did not hear from his cousin who worked at the villa all year round, he went to the villa to investigate. He discovered the bodies of the servants and the disappearance of my brother and his wife. This worker ran on foot here to Londinium to report the murders and disappearances to me.

Martinus then went back with this servant to investigate, being young and able to travel faster. Than I came a few days later. Martinus had searched all through the villa and over the grounds and fields. He gave me a quick tour, as much as my old legs could handle. We decided there was nothing to be done but wait for a ransom demand, which as you know, never came though we diligently set aside funds for the ransom. Of course we sent word to Claude who lives closer to the villa than we do. He took charge of the animals and of storing the furniture. Since the villa would stand empty until Felix's return, we did not want to risk further pillage. Martinus stayed to help Claude while I returned to Londinium.

Shuffling over to a chest against one wall, Justus took a lanyard from around his neck from which a large iron key dangled. He knelt awkwardly on shaky knees to turn the key in the lock. Raising the lid attracted Brian's attention as well as Lancelot's and both stepped over to the chest as Justus pushed the lid back to rest it against the wall.

"Wow," said Brian. "I have never seen so many coins in one place."

"You have never been in the King's storeroom, Brian?" Lancelot gave the boy a bemused smile.

"No, Sir. Never. Not yet," Brian said, a hopeful rise in his voice on 'not yet'.

Justus scooped up a handful of coins and let them cascade back into the chest. Lancelot squatted and picked up one gold coin, examining both sides of it. Then he picked up bronze coin and peered at it closely.

"You must have collected these from many sources." Lancelot observed.

"Why, yes." Said Justus. "I took them from several of my shops in and outside the city. I also raided the household budget as much as I could. My son brought many from his pottery shop, and a cousin of mine contributed a bag of coins from his villa when he came on a visit to buy provisions in the city. Also, a quarter of these coins came from my brother's castle."

"This bronze coin," Lancelot said softly, "who brought it?"

Justus frowned. He took it from Lancelot and peered closely at it. "It is of low value, I should think, compared to the gold coins. Why are you interested in it?"

Lancelot closed his eyes for a second. "Oh, just curious, it is an unusual coin."

"Oh, well," said Justus, "it appears to be an early coin from the time of the first arrival of the Romans in Britain. There are a few of these still circulating. Do you collect Roman coins?"

"My mother has a box of old Roman coins she keeps that are from various years," Lancelot said.

"Well here," and Justus put the bronze coin in Lancelot's hand. "A small token for your Mother. If she ever visits Londinium, she is welcome to visit at my home and we could see if I can add any coins to round out her collection."

"She would appreciate that. I will certainly tell her when I next see her, though she has not traveled much since my father died."

"I am sorry to hear that. Since Arthur took control of this country, it has become safer to travel but you still need a few guards. I hope you can persuade her to visit. Livia loves to entertain ladies. Since Martinus got his own place, Livia has been somewhat lonely, so I really hope your mother might visit."

"I hope so too. My mother needs to travel more. But speaking of travelers, Brian and I have had a long day..."

"Yes, of course!" Justus shut the chest and used it to help himself stand. He bent to lock it, then straightened and stretched, a hand at the small of his back to relieve a pain, and said, "Please, take some wine and retire for the evening."

Lancelot picked up the jar of wine that Justus pointed to and handed it to Brian. "Good evening then. Maybe tomorrow morning we could visit your son to interview him on what he saw and did at the villa?"

"Of course. Good-night, then. Your room is just down the courtyard to the left."

Lancelot steered Brian toward the library door with a hand on his arm. They walked out to the courtyard and down along a shaded walkway to the room assigned to them. Inside, Lancelot opened his hand and asked Brian "have you seen this coin before?"

"Not this exact one, My Lord."

Lancelot sighed. "Or course not, Brian," and rolling his eyes upward, "but one like it?"

Brian frowned and thought for a second. "Yes! The Queen gave me one something like it when I ran an errand for her. But I can't say for sure, because I spent it at one of the fairs at Camelot."

"Burned a hole in your purse did it, Brian?"

"Nooo, my purse is good leather and has no holes in it."

"Brian, Brian, Brian. Sometimes I wonder about you."

Brain looked at Lancelot quite perplexed. Then he looked at the wine jar. "Do you think we ought to test this wine for poison?"

"No, Brian. We have been drinking from that jar - you, me, and our hosts - at the evening meal. Let's have a mug of it now before bed. There are two mugs over on that stand.

Brian fetched them and Lancelot poured them each half a mug. They stood together sipping their wine, each lost in his own thoughts.

Then Brian said "That coin, the one the queen gave me, it a Roman soldier's head on one side and what looked like an emperor's head on the other side."

"Brian, I think wine aids your memory."

Brian smiled and reached his mug toward Lancelot who still held the jar. Lancelot frowned and shook his head, placing the jar behind him on a chair.

"Brian, the queen got a few bronze coins of exactly this type from Sir Felix on one of her stay-overs at the villa on her way to Londinium. She showed me one right before we started on this mission. It was exactly the same as this one from the ransom chest and the one you just described. Though of low value, it had a limited minting and is considered quite rare, which is why a handful of them was a nice gift to the queen. Sir Felix told her he knew of no one else in his family, or possibly anyone now in Britain, who had a stock of such coins. So how did one of them get into the ransom chest? This seems quite suspicious to me."

"You mean one of the family killed Sir Felix and took coins from the villa? Then they forgot where they got them from and used them as part of their donation to the ransom chest? Do you really think so, Sir Lancelot?"

"Good speculation, Brian! That would seem likely, wouldn't it? And who will inherit the estate now that Sir Felix is dead and without a child of his own to inherit? That very well might be motivation for murder."

"So we find out who is likely to get the villa," said Brian. "How do we go about this?"

"I am thinking about that Brian," Lancelot said, setting his mug down and pacing the room slowly. "Now go to bed," he said distractedly, gesturing at one of the four narrow beds in the guest room. "By morning I will have a plan."


	4. Chapter 4

**If Birds Could Talk**

**A Further Adventure in the Adventures of Sir Lancelot**

**Chapter Four**

By Waaboozikwe

Brian woke from a sound sleep to sounds in the guest room. Opening one eye, he saw Lancelot already dressed and standing next to a small table. Pulling a cold foot back under the blanket, Brian sighed, enjoying the warmth for a moment before pushing himself up and groping for his robe to pull over his night shirt.

"Awake already?" Asked Lancelot in his teasing voice.

"No. I'm still asleep," Brian answered gruffly. "But I will be dressed in a minute if you need anything," he said, mindful of his duties as a squire.

"Good," said Lancelot, tossing his bronze coin deftly, and then putting it in his coin purse. "I said I would have a plan by morning, and I do. Come. We have been invited to a morning meal, after which I will be visiting Martinus and you will keep Master Justus from accompanying me by asking him to show you the use of those Roman weapons. I don't want Master Justus around when I ask pointed questions of his son."

Brian brushed back a lock of limp blond hair, and then stood with bare feet on the cold cement floor to wash with a damp towel dipped in a bowl of water and dress quickly to follow Lancelot out into the courtyard.

...

"You must realize, Brian, that many Roman soldiers from all over the Empire, settled in Britain. A soldier with 25 years of service is entitled to citizenship and a parcel of land. There are people from all over the empire living in Britain now that you would never know had Roman soldier ancestors. Maybe even you have one."

Master Justus was in full didactic mode, enthusiastically going on and on about how to wear the armor. He had dressed Brian in a catafracta - a sort of mail coat that was a little tight on him, and a cassis or heavy helmet. This soldier ancestor of Justus's must have been a small man, thought Brian. But he liked the scutu (shield) on the back of which five plumbatae hung.

"But I don't know who my ancestors were past my grandfather. My grandfather and my parents are no longer living so I can't even ask them," Brian said, holding the Roman spear and looking at the other weapons that Justus had hung from his belt. "These sandals are more comfortable than I thought they would be. But after five miles of marching, I don't think they would feel as comfortable."

"Right you are, my boy!"

Justus was cheerful now and in his element. It had been a somber morning meal with Lady Livia, tearful, but trying hard to be social. She had set the mood and they all had eaten mostly in silence. Justus had to escape her to become his usual animated self. He had grabbed Brian and headed to his library as Lancelot bid them good day and headed out to the street.

"And it would be more than five miles a day, I can tell you! Those soldiers were accustomed to march twenty miles a day."

"Oh. I suppose you would get used to it," said Brian. "Say, will you show me how these darts are used? And the sword techniques? I know the sword play would be different than what Master Hugh is teaching us."

"Let's do that then!" said Justus, smiling and rubbing his hands together. "Maybe when Lancelot returns we can have a midday meal and afterward you can show him a trick or two that would even work against the knights of today."

Brian grinned. "There are few men who can show Sir Lancelot a trick or two. You don't know how much I would enjoy doing that!"

...

Lancelot walked down to a street along the river, just as Master Justus had directed him. Vendor stalls were opening up and people approached and passed by pulling hand carts with a variety of goods. Down by the river came the shouts of loading and unloading of boats. Lancelot counted the cross streets, 2, 5, yes here was the corner shop with bolts of cloth. Both Justus and the queen patronized this large shop and Lancelot thought his pack horse could carry a few bolts back to Camelot to send on to his mother at some point. Aveline would probably like some linen or silk too.

He turned down a narrow street that the sun did not reach far into because of the closeness of the three story insulae facing each other. Martinus lived on the third floor of the second one on the right. A young man was at this time hanging clothes on a window sill above as Lancelot hailed him, asking if he knew Martinus, son of Justus.

"You have fond him. What do you want?"

Lancelot introduced himself and Martinus gestured for him to come up.

The stone stairway was dark as Lancelot felt his way up. A door opened above so light made the footing easier. As Lancelot stepped into a two-room apartment, he glanced around noting the furnishings.

"Yes, these are from my uncle's villa if that is what you are staring at," scowled Martinus.

Lancelot thought it better not to make his curiosity any more obvious and came right to the point.

"I am sorry for your loss but I do have some questions concerning it."

"Yeah, I thought you might. My father sent Tobey to warn me of your impending visit. So what is your part in this family business anyway?"

"May we at least sit down?"

"Is that necessary? My time is short. I have two of my own vendor stalls to supervise and five of my fathers. He has offered to turn them over to me if I manage them well. So let's be brief about this."

"Alright," Lancelot said in a quiet voice. "I would think you would want to take all the time you could to solve this murder. Weren't you fond of your uncle? I heard you spent many summers at his villa as a your boy."

"Yeah. I did. Working as a field hand. My uncle said I should learn the business of farming from the bottom up. Yeah, right alongside slaves. But Aunt Annia was always kind. She made treats for me and she mended my clothes and taught me to read."

"You did learn the craft of farming, then?"

"Not my favorite thing. But I did learn it. I even got to supervise the slaves and hired men after a few years. But I prefer life in town. I prefer to be near the boats so I can get first look at new goods."

"Everyone must choose what suits him best," offered Lancelot. "But knowing the villa, you may have a good idea who committed this crime. Can you tell me everything you saw and did from the moment you arrived there after the murders?"

Martinus grunted and gestured to a chair. He grabbed a water jar and offered Lancelot a mug but Lancelot shook his head and sat expectantly.

"Okay. I did a walk through. First I saw the three bodies which even though it was winter, were getting a bit ripe. I sent the man who ran to Londinium to tell us of the murder, back to his village to fetch more people for the burying. Not much to examine there. All three had been cut down by a sword. I then went from room to room and noticed a few vases missing. Also my aunt's jewelry box cleaned out. The money chest was locked and hacked up a bit but the robbers had been unable to open it."

"Did you open it?" asked Lancelot, leaning forward.

"Okay. I did. I had my father's key – the one my uncle gave him just in case."

"Just in case?"

"You know. In case he dropped dead or something. Both of them are old now. And no one knew where uncle hid his own key in the villa."

"Apparently your brave uncle died with that knowledge untold. I think the robbers where on foot or that heavey chest would have been taken."

"Oh the robbers had horses alright. They just wanted us to think they were poor men on foot. They knew they would inherit the chest later."

"Really? Who do you think the robbers where and why do you think that?"

"It is obvious to me. But my father will not even consider what the truth might be."

Lancelot folded his arms across his chest. He did not like the attitude of this young man. Looking hard at Martinus he asked "The truth? Let's hear this truth."

How many days did it take you to get here from the villa? Two? How many days does it take to get to Sir Claude's estate from the villa? Half a day at best."

"You suspect your own uncle?"

"Who else? My father is no longer in shape to go around killing people now, if he ever was. He takes great pride in his grandfather's arms as if he himself had used them. Yet he hides within his house and within the city lifting only cooking pots and wine amphorae - never a sword with intent to really use it. His only talent is negotiating exchanges of goods for money."

"You don't think much of your father, do you. Yet you learned his trade as well as your uncles. Under his tutelage, you keep some of his shops as well as your own."

"True. But that is all he can give me. He is not like his brothers, both of whom were brave enough to at least make a life in the dangerous country side."

"If you admire that? So why aren't you doing it too?"

"It takes money, Sir Lancelot." Martinus laughed sourly. "Lots of money. And a gift of land. Do you think I would go willingly to live in the country side without ownership of money and land? It will take me years tending small shops to build up enough wealth for a horse and knight's armaments or for decent acreage with servants to farm it."

"And you do not want to take all that time to build up that wealth, do you?" Lancelot said sharply.

Martinus stared back at Lancelot, warily. Then he took a sip of water in a cracked mug and slowly smiled. "You think I did these murders, don't you? Me, a merchant's son with no training at arms. What about my brave, bold uncle who trained as a knight? A man who would attract a second wife through enlarging his estate? A man who wants a son through a second wife and enough wealth to pass on to that son and also to give a good dowry for his precious daughter by his first wife? Why not him as your chief suspect?"

Lancelot rose. "I see I shall get no further with you. But you have given me something further to consider."

"I hope so."

"Tell me, this furniture, isn't it from your uncle's villa?"

"And why not? If left there, it would only disappear or be vandalized. Sir Claude took the best furniture from the villa to his castle. He was going to leave these pieces. They had little value; you see how worn they are?"

Lancelot scanned the room. "They indeed are well used. But Sir Claude is not using his brother's furniture, only storing it. I visited his castle before I saw the villa."

"My uncle is no fool. He is old, but not as old as my father. He can afford to wait. He is young enough to marry again. What do you say to that, Sir Lancelot?"

"Nothing at the moment. You will hear from me again."

...

As Lancelot stepped into the courtyard, a missile whistle past him and struck a bundle of straw that was trussed up and leaning against a wall. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, but relaxed when he saw only Justus and someone encased in Roman armor at the back of the courtyard.

"Brian?" Lancelot stifled a laugh which came out as a sputter.

"Sir Lancelot, you are interrupting a little plumbatae practice. These weighted darts, a little shorter than your hunting arrows, are the first thing a Roman soldier would launch as his line of companions approached an enemy army."

Lancelot turned toward the straw dummy and tried to pull out the dart. Extracting it involved pulling apart half the straw from its twine binding.

"I see why...these barbs, they would do more damage being pulled out of flesh than going in. Am I not right, Master Justus?" Lancelot asked as he turned, holding up the plumbata.

"Oh yes, they would indeed. These have a range of 30 meters, well beyond that the heavier javelin."

Brian had a second plumbata in hand, so Lancelot stepped away from the straw dummy.

"Well then," he said in a hearty but wavering voice, "how many of those things do you have there, Brian?"

"Four more," Brian said, turning the shield to show three hanging from the back of it. "Sir Lancelot, how did it go with Martinus?"

"Well enough, Brian. I would like to talk with Sir Felix again," said Lancelot, his mouth hardening into a stern line.

"Do we now have to leave to do that?"

"No, there is more that I'd like to look into here in Londinium."

"You may not have to leave yet, but I must," said Justus. "It will take me two days of travel to reach the villa to bury my brother. I must start after midday meal in order to reach a decent inn by this evening. Traveling at my age is not the most pleasant activity."

Brian set the shield down and pulled off the helmet, then struggled to remove the mail tunic.

Lancelot stepped over to help him, so Brian raised his arms. The tight garment came off with a little wiggling on Brian's part and a lot of tugging by Lancelot.

"I think I will stick to my own chainmail vest," said Brian.

"Good idea, Brian. This one nearly didn't come off," laughed Lancelot.

"Come, let us share one more meal, and then I will be off," said Justus, solemnly. "Let Lucius put away my illustrious ancestor's gear.

At midday meal, Lancelot remembered to report to Justus that Sir Claude had asked him to look for a new wife. He watched Justus's reaction carefully.

"At his age?" asked Justus. "The old fool. But he is younger than me, both my brothers are. And so far Claudius has only a daughter to inherit. I am lucky; I have a full grown son who is anxious for a better life style."

"Yes, I am aware of your son's ambition. But anxious? You have established him in a nice little business. He could make much with that over time."

"He is impatient for more. I realize that. And he has had some training in farming from Sir Felix. Who better to take over management of the villa? I will consult with Claudius about that. I think the ransom money would greatly aid in repairing the villa and resuming the planting of the land."

"Hmm," said Lancelot, "good luck with that."

...

That evening, Lady Livia was slightly more cheerful. She indulged Lancelot and Brian with a beef stew and freshly made bread. Then she gave them towels and asked Lucius to take them to the bathhouse as she would be retiring early.

"Thank you, My Lady," said Brian warmly.

Livia patted Brian on the shoulder. "It is nice to once again have a boy in residence. I used to be able to please my son. But now...now he has found other things to do than to be grateful for a mother's indulgences. I think he has discovered other female company."

"Boys grow up." Lancelot noted, glancing at Brian with significance. "Some, faster than others."

Brian took the towels from Livia's arms and swallowed a retort. Tonight, at least, he would go to bed clean and warm.

...

Later, relaxed from an excellent hour at the baths, Brian carried a basket of damp towels to return to Livia, his sandals slapping over the paving stones. They walked beneath insulae that were four stories high. Brian was looking up, imagining what it would be like to have an apartment up there, when he saw, as well as heard, roof tiles moving.

"Look out, Sir Lancelot!"

Brian dropped the basket and pushed Lancelot with his shoulder, out into the center of the street. Lancelot grabbed at Brian instinctively, pulling him along with him as he fell backwards. Tiles smashed onto the paving bricks and Brian groaned.

"Brian!" Lancelot raised himself on an elbow, his other arm over the boy's chest. He gently pulled his legs out from under Brian and in the twilight saw the glazed look in the boy's eyes. Lowering Brian's head to the street, Lancelot felt over Brian's legs. Above one ankle, there was a cut that was bleeding freely. Glancing up at the flat roof from which the tiles had fallen, a form withdrew.

"Brian, can you stand?"

"I think so. Oh...," pain filled Brian's voice.

"Don't try then."

Two men emerged from a tavern across the street and came over to kneel by Brian. "Are you alright? Damn, tiles. These old buildings should be better maintained."

Lancelot retrieved a towel from the basket which had split under the weight of a peppering of tiles. He wrapped it around Brian's leg, noting the bleeding had slowed.

"Would you gentleman mind helping to carry my squire to our host's house?" asked Lancelot. "It is only two streets that way and then uphill five houses."

"I can walk," said Brian. "I think, with a little help."

The men lifted Brian under the shoulders, but stepping on the injured leg, Brain almost went down again. Lancelot and one of the men made a chair of their arms and Brian braced an arm behind both of their backs. The other man picked up the basket and came along behind them.

"So much for a quiet evening at the baths," said Sir Lancelot. 


	5. Chapter 5

**If Birds Could Talk**

**A Further Adventure in the Adventures of Sir Lancelot**

**Chapter Five**

By Bineshii

By the time they had arrived at Justus's house, Brian's head was lolling against Lancelot's arm, his mind cloudy from loss of blood and pain. The wound was still bleeding. They laid him down on a bed in the guest room as Livia came running in.

"What happened? Let me see!"

She knelt by the bed and unwrapped the towel from Brian's leg.

"It is deep. It must be cleaned and closed. Get me some water and some linen to tear into strips! What happened?""

As a young girl who had followed Livia, ran off for the water and linen, a man Lancelot had not seen before was peering into the room. He watched as Livia pressed another towel from the basket, against the wound.

Livia spoke quickly as she worked. "Sir Lancelot, by the doorway is a friend of the family who has an estate near Felix and Annia Amelia's villa. Kevin, this is Sir Lancelot and on the bed, his squire, Brian."

As Livia held pressure on Brian's leg, Lancelot and Kevin nodded to each other.

"Kevin came after you left for the baths," explained Livia . He is staying in this room with you and will be here for a few days to collect supplies to take back to his castle. He, as you probably know, owes allegiance to King Arthur."

Livia leaned forward and whispered softly to Brian "I have stopped the bleeding but will have to wash the wound and stitch it closed. Do you understand?"

Brian moaned a quiet "yes," closed his eyes, breathing rapidly, trying not to cry out.

"Good boy," Livia said as Lancelot kneeled beside her to put pressure on the wound as the girl returned and Livia prepared to clean the wound.

Livia was not gentle but she was thorough. Brian arched his back and moaned, so Lancelot held him down, saying soothingly "cry out if you have to. This won't take long and this is the worst of it. When it has been stitched up, the pain will ease somewhat."

Kevin appeared at Lancelot's side, holding a small jar. "Have him drink this, when he can. It will ease the pain."

"What is that?" Lancelot asked sharply.

"It is wine laced with the capsules of the poppy. It is a sleep drug - opium. I grabbed it from my stock of medicines when I saw you bring the boy in. My wife is knowledgeable about such things and I brought some medicines from her to give to Livia."

"Alright," said Lancelot, pressing down on Brian as the boy stiffened again.

"Hand me that needle!" Livia commanded.

The girl did. As it was applied, Brian could not help crying out, then turning his head, pushed it against Lancelot's chest, trying to stifle his cries.

Lancelot saw Livia finish with the needle and start tightly wrapping Brian's leg with strips of linen.

He shoved an arm under Brian and half raised the boy to a sitting position. With his other hand he held the jar to Brian's lips "drink!"

Brian, delirious, tried to push the jar away, but when he opened his mouth to say "no," Lancelot forced the lip of the jar into his mouth and tipped it up. Brian gagged, but swallowed.

"Again!"

Brian swallowed again and Lancelot let him fall back on the bed, still shaking but only moaning softly.

Livia stood, looked down at Brian and nodded. "That is all I can do. For now. Let the drug take effect. Sarah, stay with him. Come get me if he wakes or the bleeding resumes. Everyone else – out. You too, Sir Lancelot."

Lancelot followed everyone out, glancing back at Brian in concern.

In the atrium, the largest room, Lancelot said "It will be too late to catch the person who pushed those tiles off the roof. But I would like to take a look at the scene. Lucius, can you give me a torch?"

The two men who had come to Lancelot and Brian's aid where still standing around, showing concern, but looking eager to leave once they learned the details of this incident so they would have an interesting story for their cronies at the tavern.

Lancelot looked appraisingly at them. "Thank you for helping us. Will you help a little more? Do you know the building that the tiles fell from?"

"Oh yes, Sir. It is owned by some lord who lives far from the city. He hardly ever visits, or he visits in secret. We don't know him at all."

"I see," said Lancelot, a bit disappointed. "Walk with me back there then, will you?"

"Okay, but what is this all about? Did the tiles fall by accident or do you have some sort of quarrel with the building owner?"

"I don't know the building owner," Lancelot said, ushering them with his hands toward the door.

"I'd like to go with you too," offered Kevin. "No one should walk the streets of Londinium alone after dark."

Lancelot nodded curtly to Kevin and the four men left Justus's house.

...

The building was dark, deserted. There was a stairway at the back of the building which went all the way to the roof, Lancelot found as he went back through a narrow space between the buildings. Kevin followed, feeling along the wall with his hand. The other two men had returned to the tavern.

The stairway was stone and narrow, so Lancelot raised his torch and in the flickering light, noted the unevenness of the risers.

"Kevin, take care. Can you see the stairs by the torch light?"

"Barely," grunted Kevin. "But lead on."

The roof was flat, covered with broken pottery and other detritus. It looked like garbage had been thrown up here instead of removed from the building. Lancelot kicked aside some of it, noting that other tiles had fallen inward from the low wall around the entire roof.

"Are you sure you saw someone up here?" asked Kevin. "The tiles might have just fallen on their own."

"I am sure," Lancelot replied. "A man most likely. Tall. About your height and mine."

"Do you think you could recognize him?"

"No, Kevin. He was only a shadow."

Kevin was also kicking aside things and he walked along the front of the building looking down to the street. "About where did you see him?"

"Right where you are walking."

Kevin reached down and picked something up.

"What have you found?" Lancelot asked eagerly.

"Nothing. Just a stone." And Kevin flung something across the roof which hit the low wall at the back and bounced off into a pile of shards. He looked again over the low wall in front, which was about three feet high. "A long way down. These slate tiles are heavy and sharp. No wonder Brian was injured."

"I think these tiles were meant to injure me more than the boy," Lancelot said. "If Brian had not pushed me out of the way..."

"Well, I am still not sure you saw anyone while being pushed. Imagination in the dark can be a deceptive thing."

"I wasn't imagining this. I have trained myself to notice my surroundings, as a hunter, as a man- at- arms."

"I meant no dispersion on your abilities, Sir Lancelot."

"None taken."

Lancelot glanced around at the nearby buildings. "It would be easier to jump across to other roofs than to go down those stairs in the dark. Most of the roofs here are flat, good footing, accept for the garbage. Trying to see which way that man went would be futile, especially at night. I think we are done here. Let's return to Justus's house."

"Suits me," said Kevin, sliding his hand into a pocket in his tunic.

Lancelot watched him. "You found something?"

"Ah, no. Just seeing if I had a few coins to treat both of us to a mug of ale at the tavern across the street. I do have enough."

"Thank you, but I'd rather get back to check on Brian. We will have to be quiet slipping into bed in the same room with him."

"That opium will keep him sleeping all night, Sir Lancelot."

"Still, I want to check on him," Lancelot said, heading back down the stairway.

At the house, Livia asked them to sit with her. She wanted to know if Lancelot thought this roof tile business could be related to the villa murders.

"Interesting speculation," mused Lancelot.

"More likely, someone close to the family...or even...part of the family," Kevin said quietly.

"I hope not!" said Livia.

"Let us be realistic," said Kevin, leaning forward, the candlelight flickering on the sharp plains of his face. He was not a handsome man. "Who will take over the villa? Claude? Martinus?"

"This would have nothing to do with my son!" Snapped Livia. "Or Claude either, for that matter."

"My dear Livia, we cannot discount anyone," said Kevin softly.

"That is true, My Lady," Said Lancelot, taking her hand in his and patting it. "All possibilities must be explored, but carefully, with no accusation, just fact finding at this point.

Livia smiled sadly. "You are the best one to do this investigating, Sir Lancelot. You are a disinterested party and impartial." Turning to Kevin she said "Your estate is near our villa and I know you have made an offer to purchase it in the past. So, Kevin, as close a friend as you are, you are not a totally disinterested party."

"Livia, I am saddened that you would even think that of me. But yes, I did once make such an offer. Yet I only heard of the murders after Martinus arrived at the villa to find the servants' bodies. And I was shocked when I came here today and you told me of Felix and his lady's horrible fate."

"True, I almost had to have Lucius catch you when you half fainted upon my relating Sir Lancelot's discovery to you. I accuse no one. Yet. Well, gentlemen, it has been a long day. I will bid you good night and there will be a hearty meal for you in the morning."

The two men rose with her. Lancelot took her hand again and brushed his lips against it. "Thank you for taking such good care of my Brian."

She smiled and left the atrium, with them following behind.

...

The next day, Lancelot talked with Martinus again and found he could account for his whereabouts the night before. He also visited a merchant who was knowledgeable about Roman coins and climbed the back stairway to visit the roof from which the tiles had fallen. Seeing it in daylight did not reveal any further clues except that it was possible to jump from roof to roof for quite a way and most buildings had outside staircases. When Lancelot arrived at the guest room to check on Brian at noon, he found a familiar tall man with his back to the door, gazing down at the sleeping boy.

"Sir Gawain," Lancelot whispered, "nice to see you. Let Brian sleep, he has been injured. Come out in the hall so we can talk."

Gawain turned and stepped out the door, leaning a hand on the door frame. Angling his head back toward the boy in the room he asked "what happened."

Lancelot quickly filled him in on all that happened since he and Brian left Camelot and Gawain said he was here to give Lancelot a message from the king that there were no new developments in the case from inquiries made at Camelot. He was to take back any information Lancelot could give on the case, but was on a short mission of his own before returning to Camelot.

The two knights paused in their own thoughts for a second. Then Gawain frowned. "The wound appears deep. I lifted the blanket to have a look at it. You know, Lancelot, if it doesn't heal well, you should consider returning the boy to his former employment in a kitchen. Camelot has a large complex of kitchens with many jobs that need doing. Someday he might even rise to the position of cook."

Lancelot's eyes suddenly went hard, his face clouding with anger. "Brian is family! If he is disabled, I will take care of him! He will not return to any menial status."

Sir Gawin raised both his hands palms forward "I meant no offense, my friend! Really, Lancelot, you often overreact to things as many of us of the Round Table have noticed. I know Brian is devoted to you and has often put his life at risk to come to your aid. But if he becomes disabled, frankly, he will then never become a knight. That is true even of gentle born boys, who have to look to other things to do with their lives."

Lancelot took a deep breath and lowered his gaze to the floor tiles. "I know I get defensive where Brian is concerned. He is like a younger brother to me. I have always wanted a younger brother and Brian is as close to me as a blood relative." He looked at Sir Gawain again, more calmly. "There are many knights walking with a limp or even missing an arm or leg who still are able to defend themselves and their families."

"True," admitted Sir Gawain. "But they are not Table knights. You must admit that. It was Brian's goal and your goal for him, to become a Table knight. So it would be best to start considering other things for the boy."

"Agreed. We of the Table are an elite force, the heart of Arthur's power and upholder's of the ethics of what knighthood should be at its best. I know that two of the Table knights had to retire, with honors, in the prime of life, because of disabilities. But at least they reached their goal and served for a time."

Gawain sighed and smiled at his friend and fellow Table knight "I could not have said it better. All I am saying is that you must be mindful that your Brian may not achieve all you and he hope for. Even if that is so, he is a very special young man and can still have a good life."

"I will see to that!" said Lancelot, a bit sharply, but then flexed his hands and raised his chin. "We all have people who are close to our hearts and any thought of them being hurt or worse is difficult to deal with. You are right about Brian being special, as are my two sisters, my mother, my king and queen, and my fellow Round Table knights. Now, let's go to Justus's library so we can talk more about this mission Brian and I are on. We don't want to wake him here in this guest room with our raised voices. I would like your opinion about who might be behind these murders and why."

Gawain and Lancelot talked for an hour, then Gawain left to stay over at a friend's townhouse in another part of the city. He promised to inform the king of Lancelot's progress with the case, when he returned to Camelot.


End file.
